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by huldrejenta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Community: rs_games, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Romance, Slight Crossdressing, radio show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2641721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huldrejenta/pseuds/huldrejenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Potter and Black have always been arrogant and selfish as far as Remus can tell. Having their own, very successful radio show, probably hasn't changed that one bit. But when fate, or more precisely Frank Longbottom, steps in, and Remus finds himself working with Potter and Black, he might have to consider that there's more to them than he's been giving them credit for.</p><p>Written for RS-Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seeing

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Team Muggle at the 2014 RS-Games on LiveJournal.  
> The theme this year was the five senses, and there's one chapter for each sense (as well as one additional chapter at the end).
> 
> Thank you so much to brighty18 and stereolightning for all your help and cheerleading ♥
> 
> *** ***

_"We're about to reach the end of yet another broadcast from James Potter and Sirius Black, your allies in making the world a little wiser, a little happier and a little bit more understanding. And a whole lot more fun."_

_"Indeed we are, Sirius, but before we say good-bye to our lovely listeners out there, we'll have some final words from today's guest: author of the award-winning bestseller "My Life: A Touch of Magic", and three times voted The Sexiest Man Alive, Mr Gilderoy Lockhart!"_

_"Thank you, Mr Potter, you're too kind! There's no need to mention any of it, or the fact that I'm nominated for Best TV Talk Show Host. I don't talk about that."_

_"So we've noticed, Mr Lockhart. You mentioned earlier that you'd like to share some piece of advice before we wrap up for today?"_

_"Ah, yes, I'm so glad you asked. I've gathered a considerable amount of wisdom on my various adventures, and I enjoy nothing more than sharing with those less fortunate. One valuable lesson I've taught myself over the years is that quite often the best thing to do is the opposite of how the old saying goes. Judge the book by its cover! These days, people will tell you to seek deeper, to search for more than one way to look at things. Not so, I say. If I had stopped to think about the correct course of action when I ran into the Siberian tiger you can read all about in my latest book, the tiger would've eaten me. It's remarkable how often this is true in other parts of life as well. For instance, unkempt people are usually poor. Poor people are usually lazy. Lazy people are usually terribly dull. Spare yourself a lot of grief and stay clear of all this digging-deeper, having-an-open-mind business. Take me, for example. What you see is a handsome man - blindingly so, I've been told, not that it's important to emphasize that. I'm well-dressed and charming. This first impression is remarkably accurate! Do you see what I mean, Mr Black?"_

_"Absolutely. This was most illuminating. Thank you so much for joining us, it's been an adventure having you on the show. Stay tuned, everyone - we'll be back with a few last words after this song. A song that is perfect for everyone using the radio the way I do - lying in bed while rain is pouring down outside, listening to music, thinking about someone special from your past."_

*** *** 

Everything is so small. The building, the offices, the studios.

Remus has never been inside a radio station before, but he's pictured it to be less cramped than what he sees while trailing after Frank. He clutches the cereal bar in his pocket hard enough to turn it into crumbs. No matter. There's no way he'll be able to eat the damned thing now anyway, and the nervous butterflies have all the space they could possibly wish for in his empty stomach.

Rounding the corner, they walk into an office much bigger than the other ones. It's practically the size of Remus' flat.

"This," says Frank, waving an arm around, "is the heart and soul of this place." He beams and pushes his glasses further up his nose. "It's my office, yes, but it's more than that. All editorial meetings take place in this room, and people knock on my door at all hours. Lots of great ideas, and lots of not so great ones, have been born here. I like to think of this as more than a place to work. It's also a place where we take care of each other, Remus, and I'm glad that you've agreed to become a part of it."

Remus picks up a random mug from the desk. There's a castle of some sort printed on the mug, it's beautiful, and he keeps looking at it. He has no idea what to say. Frank is doing him a huge favour by offering him this job, and they both know it. 

"Good show today, wasn't it, Frank?" Laughing voices pull Remus out of his thoughts. Two men are striding into the office like it's their own personal playground. If these men are anything like they used to be, they probably think it is.

Remus would've recognized Potter and Black anywhere. They've always stood out. Loud, boisterous, stupidly confident - and they still don't blend in with the background. A fact the two of them undoubtedly appreciate, considering that their current background is faded wall paper with a pattern Remus wouldn't be able to remember later if his life depended on it.

Frank sits down onto his desk and flips through some papers. "I'm sure it was a great broadcast, guys, but I didn't catch it, I'm afraid. I'm giving the grand tour to the newest addition to our staff. You remember Remus Lupin, don't you?"

Two sets of black hair turn around, one unruly and one graceful. Two wide smiles spread across faces that look every bit as eager and every bit as mischievous as they did when Remus saw them last.

"Remus!" Potter stretches out his hand, he even pulls Remus into an awkward hug. "Nice to see you, mate. I haven't seen you since... well, since forever. How've you been?"

Deciding against giving an honest answer, Remus shakes Potter's hand and releases himself from the hug before an approaching Black catches his attention. 

Back in school, Sirius Black could sweep anyone to whom he decided to give the time of day off their feet, of that Remus had little doubt. Even those who by no stretch of the word belonged to his fan club, had to admit that he was stunning. 

If Remus has hoped for some justice granted him from the universe, he's sorely disappointed. No satisfaction in knowing that he himself has grown into a handsome, easy-going bloke everyone likes (he hasn't), no seeing that the years haven't been nice at all to Black (they really have), no seeing that Black is nowhere near as beautiful as he used to be (he absolutely is). 

Remus shakes his head and pushes down his annoyance. Who gives a damn anyway? It's not like he's given Black much thought over the years.

The sounds of chatter emerges from the corridor and keeps getting louder. A group of boisterous women stop outside the open door, saving Remus from having to say anything to Black. 

"Ladies, ladies!" A man's voice carries above the crowd, doing little to ease the masses. "I'll gladly sign everyone's copies of my books! There's no need to push, no one has to leave here today without getting what they want from me. Oh no, my dear, I didn't mean it like that! An autograph, a photo of my smile, maybe a hug, now that I can do."

Potter bursts out laughing as he flings himself into the only armchair in the room. "That Lockhart guy is such an idiot. What do they all see in a conceited, smug git like him?"

Oh dear. Remus all but puts his fist into his mouth to stop the obvious replies to that question from spilling out. Like how come Potter hasn't asked the same thing about his own admirers. 

As luck would have it, Remus gets distracted by a young woman walking into the office with a dazed look in her eyes. She drags a hand through her short hair and lets out a small sigh.

"Alice!" Frank gets up from his desk while rolling his eyes and walks up to her. "Not you as well?" 

The woman - Alice - laughs, almost covering up her embarrassment. "No, no. Not at all. But he does have a wonderful smile, I can't deny that."

She gives Frank a quick peck on his cheek before clapping her hands together. "Okay, gentlemen!" she says, addressing Potter and Black. "We're moving on to today's agenda, which of course is the threats the two of you've been receiving. You need to start taking them seriously. Whoever's sending them doesn't sound like they're fooling around. We'll have a meeting today, here, at sixteen hundred. Got it?"

Without waiting for a reply, she's out of the door in a couple of strides.

Frank smiles and follows the woman with his eyes until she disappears. "My Alice," he says. "She's studying to be a cop, and she is fond of getting into the role."

"You mean she likes bossing us around and having opinions on everything we say or do." Potter shakes his head before giving in to a smile. "She's good at what she does. But we won't let some random stranger who channels their hate in our direction, decide how we do this. It's _our_ bloody show, and there is such a thing as freedom of speech in this country."

Black says nothing. He's been uncharacteristically silent since entering the room. Maybe the talk about these threats is freaking him out, yet something is wrong with that picture. Black may be full of flaws, and Remus has witnessed quite a few. But lack of courage has never been among them. 

"Be that as it may," says Frank, walking towards the door. "We'll all have our say this afternoon. Right now we have a tour to finish. Remus?"

Remus follows, most aware of Black's eyes on him every step of the way. What is he up to this time?

"So," Remus says once he's caught up with Frank, not at all curious about Black. "What's with these threats you talked about?" 

"James and Sirius have an agenda with their show. Yes, it's about having fun and giving people two enjoyable hours before lunch in their company, certainly. But it's also about addressing some controversial issues. It's about tolerance. Not everyone is happy with that approach to the world."

Remus stares at Frank. Blinks a couple of times. "I've seen Black and Potter and their idea of tolerance back in school, thank you very much. I wasn't impressed. Neither was Severus."

"Ah," says Frank, "that's right. You used to hang out with that Snape guy, didn't you? Well. There are two sides to any story. And arrogance can be outgrown."

Frank still has got the same friendly look on his face as he did back in school. He's dressed in an elegant shirt and trousers more than likely chosen by Alice, and his eyes are open and honest enough for Remus to almost believe him.

"Anyway." Frank continues down the corridor at a leisurely pace, he's the kind of guy Remus has a hard time imagining ever being in a hurry. "Someone wants to give James and Sirius a scare. Or they want to hurt them. Alice seems to think the latter is possible, and I tend to agree. They've received letters and phone calls and all sorts of stuff online. Well, unfortunately there are people posting anonymous hate messages from time to time, but now it seems like someone is targeting James and Sirius specifically, always signing with 'Fighting For Purity'". 

He throws a look over his shoulder. The corridor is empty, and he continues. "Which leads us to your job here, Remus."

Remus clears his throat and wonders why there's a sense of impending doom sneaking up on him. "What does my job doing research for the shows have to do with this?"

"Oh, you'll be doing research. And I have no doubt it'll be excellent work. Just think of this as additional research on... safety."

"Think of _what_ as researching safety?"

Frank waves his hand around, which really doesn't do much to clarify. "I'd appreciate it if you'd help us all keep an eye on James and Sirius. For the time being, just until this mess has blown over, of course."

Laughter that sounds fake even to Remus' own ears, fills the silence. But Frank doesn't join in with a "sorry, bad joke". The look on his face is earnest and serious, and Remus desperately needs a cups of tea.

"You want me to be their bodyguard?"

"No, no! Nothing as dramatic as that. I'd just feel better if someone I trust, someone smart and someone who doesn't stand out as... well, your typical bodyguard kind of bloke, will keep an eye on them. I worry that they don't take this whole mess seriously, and they do have a history of acting as if they're invincible. I don't want you to be doing police work or anything like that. Just hang out with them a little bit and add some reason and sense of cautiousness to their lives." 

Frank takes a deep breath and meets Remus' eyes. "I know it's a lot to ask. Consider it a testament of how much I trust you that I'm asking anyway."

Oh, bugger. Does Frank know that he's chosen the exact words to make certain Remus can't say no? Remus sighs. There's no way he would've refused doing the job Frank needs him to anyway. He owes Frank, he really does. He can only hope that whoever's behind these threats will be caught sooner rather than later.

*** ***

And this is how Remus one hour later finds himself in the cafeteria, baby-sitting two grown men who've always been more than accomplished at dipping their toes into trouble - and equally accomplished at coming out of it just fine.

Potter and Black give him a smile when he sits down at their table. Potter's been trying to include him in the conversation, but apparently he's given up now. The two old friends are back to chatting, laughing and making jokes Remus grudgingly has admit are quite funny. To himself. Never out loud, goodness, no way.

They don't seem to be surprised that he's there. "What are you going to tell them?" he'd asked Frank. "I've talked to them already," Frank said, "don't worry about it. Having you around, hanging around at their flat - it's all an adventure to them. And I think that your presence is just what they need. Maybe get Potter to think twice about saying exactly what he thinks in any given situation. Maybe get Black to realise that of course he's got every right to walk home alone from the night club, singing and stumbling in his leather pants and high heels, but that for his own safety, it might be a good idea to tone it down just a little these days."

Remus takes a sip of his water and sighs. He's got a feeling he's been doing that an awful lot today. At least he's got a job to sigh about. Even if parts of it is trying to constrain two men who've never seemed to give a damn about anyone's opinions but their own. 

"What have you been up to since school, then, Remus?" 

Black's voice pulls Remus out of his thoughts and he looks up. A pair of silvery eyes meet his, eyes that seem to hide a thousand questions, but might as well be blindfolded for all they reveal. For some reason, Remus finds that he needs to clear his throat before replying.

"Nothing much. Nothing that either of you would be interested in, certainly."

"Of course we're interested!" Potter is joining in, all but bouncing up and down on his chair in his eagerness. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well." Finding an answer that doesn't make him look like a grumpy, bitter old man (even more so than he actually is), proves surprisingly difficult. "I just haven't... been doing anything exciting, I suppose."

"And you think we're only interested in terribly exciting stuff?" It's Black again, and as his eyes rest on Remus', there's a shadow of something flying across his face. "You don't really see us, do you, Remus?"

Black starts gathering the used plates and cups, placing them in a neat pile. Remus wouldn't have expected Black to do such a thing; it's nothing, really, but still. 

"Of course I see you," he says, misunderstanding on purpose as uncertainty leads to annoyance. "You're sitting here, right in front of me."

It won't be long now, before it's there. The infamous Black sneer that used to drive Severus furious. 

But it never comes. 

"You don't," Black says again. "It's like you're afraid of us, or don't like us at all. It's always been like that." 

There's an expression on his face remarkably like... sadness? It's gone again as quickly as it came, and Remus drags a hand through his hair. He's been on this job for less than half a day, and already it's messing with his head.

This is going to be a long winter.


	2. Listening

_"I can't begin to tell you how much I've been looking forward to meeting you boys!"_

_"Not as much as we've been looking forward to meeting you, Ms Warbeck. James here is a huge fan of your music."_

_"Oh, shush, you're making me blush! And please, call me Celestina, won't you? As I was saying to my dear Irwing as I left our home in Italy to fly up here to be on your radio show, there's just something about those two young men. I'm afraid he might have got a bit jealous, my Irwing, but it's simply impossible for a hot-blooded woman like me to stay completely neutral when meeting ravishing men such as yourselves. Irwing knows he's my favourite, that sweet old dear, so hopefully he won't be all cross with me or forget to feed the cats."_

_"Yes, Irwing, remember to feed the cats! Now, Celestina, you've given us plenty of entertainment in the gossip columns over the years, but it's your music that has captured the hearts of fans all over the world. And it's no secret that you're a favourite on various drag shows and a lot of gay clubs, I've witnessed that myself. Have you got any thoughts about that?"_

_"I think it's wonderful, Sirius! I've been to a few of those shows where I see myself on stage, and let me tell you, they usually make me look a lot better than even my best make-up artist is able to do with the real thing. But to be a bit serious for a minute - yes, I can be serious every now and then, not too often, though, mind you. I'm truly honoured that my music can spread joy, and if I may be so bold, give people a sometimes much needed push on the narrow path to true love. Music is magic, guys, it's as simple as that."_

_"Sirius can testify to that, you wouldn't believe how much time he spends listening to the radio and wallowing in sad songs. But your advice on how to brighten ones days is listen to more happy music?"_

_"As long as it's **my** music, James dear, haha. No, all kinds of music, of course. And actually I would say listen more in general. We've got two ears and only one mouth, maybe it's a hint we ought to listen more than we talk. I'm probably the worst person ever to say this, since I hardly ever close my mouth according to Irwing, but I'll say it anyway. Listen to the sounds around you, and listen to the people you spend your days with. Don't be too certain about what someone is actually saying before you truly listen. It can give you a few surprises."_

 

*** *** 

 

One of the first things that Remus notices in his new job, is that Black talks. All the time. He's still a bit wary of Remus, still doesn't address him much, still sends him lingering looks. But otherwise he gives a running commentary on everything that's happening around him. 

Remus has never before listened to someone talking the way Black does, about how he makes his sandwich, all the ingredients he uses in detail, before he eagerly explains how the different tastes and textures melt together in his mouth. 

Black talks while combing his hair, he tells anyone who'll listen about the one time his ponytail got stuck in the elevator door; it's quite a dramatic story involving pain, scissors and two little girls getting scared enough by the sight of Black to yell at their mothers that they wanted a haircut once they returned home. 

When putting on his coat, Black talks about this woman working at the coffee shop, who may or may not be joking about giving him a discount because his long coat makes him look like a hard-boiled detective from the 1920s. Remus takes in Black's appearance and strongly suspects that the woman isn't joking.

Besides Black's unstoppable need to involve everyone around him in everything that's going on, the biggest surprise for Remus is how easy it all turns out to be. Potter and Black don't ask why Remus is spending so much time with them, they don't act surprised when he rings their doorbell before breakfast. Yes, Frank has been talking to them, but there's more to it. It's as if they simply are... nice people. Which collides horribly with memories from school. Remus has no idea what to make of it, but thankfully he doesn't have to find out. This is just a job. Potter and Black are no business of his beyond what his job description says.

And really, there's no need for that thought to be uncomfortable. At all.

"Did you listen to our show today?" It's usually Potter who asks him, immediately followed by an even more enthusiastic "Did you like it?"

"Yes," Remus says, because he does, and Potter lights up. Humming, he grabs some coffee or opens his laptop to write down a new idea for the show. Black smiles as well, not as sparkling as Potter, not to Remus' face. Sometimes the smile is there afterwards, when Black sits down to enjoy the coffee Potter has brought him, in one of those rare pauses where he doesn't talk. 

It's in these pauses, nice as they are, that the thought occurs to Remus. He actually likes listening to Black talking.

Good heavens.

It turns out that he's an eager listener when other people talk about Black as well.

"The thing you need to understand about Sirius," says Lily as they walk together to the wine-bar one evening, meeting a whole group of people who apparently can think of better things to do Friday nights that eating instant noodles in front of an old telly. Lily is talkative and vivacious, and despite her questionable taste in boyfriends, she's proven to be the friendly, generous type who welcomes him into her life without question. 

Lily finally locates her mobile that's been buzzing, replies to the text and tries again. "What you need to understand about Sirius, is that he's very much like a dog. No, really! Enormously protective of his... pack, for a lack of a better word. He'll do anything for those he cares about. Scratch him behind his ear, and you have a friend for life. But hurt him, or someone close to him, and he'll never forget it."

"Ah, Sirius," says Molly while slowly trying to navigate through busy city streets and making her voice heard over chatty children in the backseat. They're on their way to the Weasley house, as the radio show is doing a report on raising kids in the city. Frank felt it would be a good idea to have the two hosts babysitting before broadcasting the experience, and apparently the Weasleys are good candidates. 

Molly gives Remus a big hug when they meet, no objections about giving him a lift when the other car is full. She laughs a lot and her driving style is very safe with an obvious preference for low gears. 

"I feel sorry for Sirius, I really do. His family is... well, I'll restrain myself in front of the children. He is doing remarkably well for someone from that family, I'll give him that." 

She picks up a little box full of cookies, obviously homemade, and hands it to him. "Please help yourself, dear, I always keep some in the car. Years of driving around with small children have taught me to be prepared. No, Charlie, let Remus have some first, yes, Bill, you can all have one each afterwards. Sometimes, Remus, I need to focus on the traffic a little more than their chatter lets me, and a cookie does the trick. Or Celestina Warbeck singing on the radio, that always helps me concentrate. Did you hear her talking to James and Sirius on the show? She's wonderful, she really is, but, yes, we were talking about Sirius."

Remus straightens in his seat and tunes back in by the mention of Black. He has no idea why.

"He can be rather reckless, you know, well, he and James both, but Sirius even more. If you ask me, what he needs is some good, old-fashioned mothering. Or a significant other. Someone who listens to him and cares for him and sees the vulnerable boy I suspect is hiding underneath his bravado."

She sighs; Remus can't tell if it's because of Black or because of increasingly heavy traffic. "It would have to be someone patient, because he can get on my nerves, I have to admit."

"He's loyal and smart," says Lily. 

"He's high maintenance, but worth it for the right person," says Molly.

Remus listens to them, his own memories keep swirling around, mixing with their words. Potter and Black in the schoolyard, doing as they please like the arrogant bullies Remus always thought them to be. James Potter, show-off extraordinaire and sworn enemy of Remus' friend. Sirius Black, everyone's crush and no one's someone special. 

The image of Potter is changing, there's no denying that. Remus and Lily have arrived at the wine-bar, and Potter greets him with a happy smile that turns into an enormous grin when he notices Lily. Maybe her taste in boyfriends isn't so bad. 

It's loud in here, the heavy beat of music and people talking and his own heartbeat making Remus dizzy. Even in his thin t-shirt he's already sweating, and it's only been ten minutes. He feels drunk despite not having a drop of alcohol - and apparently he's supposed to be _mingling_. Good heavens. Frank can't have thought this whole thing through very well before asking Remus to keep Potter and Black company. 

Potter and Lily seem very cosy on their way to a dark corner, and Black? Sirius Black is holding court. There's no other word for it. He's the star people orbit around, the magnetic centre they circle around, never getting any closer. He leans against the bar, drinking his beer, talking and laughing, looking like sex on legs in his leather pants that actually look good on him and a v-neck cut so low that he might as well not have bothered. 

"Sirius doesn't even notice the effect he has on people." Peter has taken the seat next to Remus, he's changed since school, but then again, so has Remus. "It's always been like this for him. He probably doesn't realise that most people have to fight for the attention that he gets simply by showing his face. And now everyone thinks he's so brave as well. You know, with the radio show and speaking against his family. What can I say, some people just have it all." Peter hides his envy with the same skill he uses to hide his hunger when blue eyes roam over pretty females walking by. 

"I think Sirius is lonely," says Fabian, three glasses of sparkling water later. "They say that he's got it all, but it's not true. Listen to his voice when certain topics come up. He doesn't have that one person to love."

Black sits by himself for once, his legs dangling from the top of the bar. Are people even allowed to sit upon the bar? The bass in Remus' ears keeps beating, and his legs move in Black's direction. Might as well talk to him before someone starts swooning at his feet again. 

"No heels tonight?" 

"What?" Black looks up at Remus, he seems caught off guard. A shadow flickers across his face, but it's gone before Remus can decide if it's surprise or something else. "Oh, the heels." Black quickly gets back into the game, whatever the game is. 

"Have you been talking to Frank?" His voice is smooth, comfortable, with a lilt that suggests a laugh is close to the surface. "I've worn those shoes on the town two, maybe three times, but Frank is obsessed with them. He keeps blabbering on about how I should lie low these days and all that crap. I didn't turn my back on that shit preached by my family just to keep hiding."

It makes sense. It probably makes more sense than anything he's heard from Black's mouth before. Because, really, it's quite possible that he never used to listen very well to Black at all.

Still, he's here on a mission. Sort of. "That's an admirable sentiment, Black. Bravery is one thing, though. Not taking care of yourself is another."

The music keeps booming through the room. It's crowded, people are using their elbows to reach the bar, and Black simply sits there; unaffected by the noise around him, watching Remus. How come Remus has never noticed the way Black's eyebrows are shaped like wings? Or how the iris in his left eye is just a tiny bit darker than his right?

Eventually Black opens his mouth. It's been five seconds, an hour; Remus honestly has no idea. "Why do you insist on calling me Black?" 

_You've always been Black. A concept more than a person._ "I'm not sure," says Remus.

Black inhales through his nose, he blinks and takes a few sips of his beer. Clears his throat and exhales. 

"Do you know what my father said to me when I told him I was gay?" Remus shakes his head. "Nothing. Not one word. He hasn't said anything to me since March fifteenth three years ago, at nine o'clock in the morning. 'Can you pass me the coffee, please?' he said two minutes to nine. 'Here you go,' I said, 'and I've been meaning to tell you something. I'm a homosexual, Father. I'm Sirius Black, your son, mostly a good person, sometimes an idiot, and I'm attracted to men.' He didn't even blink. He filled his cup with tea, and he hates tea, then turned his back on me in the most literal way. He hasn't spoken to me since. And you see, Remus, _he_ is Mr Black. Call me Sirius. Please?"

Remus has no idea what to say. He nods, and his reply is more a croak than anything else. "Of course. Sirius."

Black - Sirius - smiles, making him look even more beautiful, and a thousand times more dangerous. A dangerous man to display weakness in front of. 

Sirius is in his element here. A display of casual elegance and easygoing flirtation. Making those around him eat from the palm of his hand without any visible effort. Which is why Remus chokes on his sparkling water when Sirius leans in a little later, whispering in Remus' ear. "Jeez, I hate mingling. I love going out, but only with people I care about. The rest of them can bugger off." 

And then he laughs. Sirius laughs a lot. Remus rather likes the sound of Sirius' laugh. There's plenty of opportunity to hear it once they reach the Weasley's house, ready to assist in the making of a tips-for-babysitters radio special. Brushing off the many crumbs he's managed to spill from Molly's cookies, Remus climbs out of the car, taking in the quaint home and the bouncy little boys running around in front of it. 

Molly claps her hands together and manages to capture her sons' attention. Remus is impressed. 

"Be nice to James and Sirius, boys. Percy, I trust you to keep an eye on your brothers. No, Charlie, you absolutely cannot colour Fred's hair blue to help the babysitters separate the twins. I expect everyone to be in one piece when your Dad and I return. Now, James, here's a list of phone numbers I hope you won't need, the hospital right at the top. Good luck, I'm certain you'll do just fine, dears!"

And off she goes. 

Potter - James - looks a tad paler than usual. Sirius has found a football and has already immersed himself in a one-on-one with Bill. The crew is setting up microphones and taking notes, but Sirius looks like he's having too much fun to notice. His laughter fills the air, mixing with the boys', and he's the first to comfort when George gets stuck in a rose bush. "Mum says we can't run in this part of the garden," says Charlie, eyeing the overgrown shrubbery. "But it's not easy to stop when your legs are full of joy!" 

"I know exactly what you mean," says Sirius. James smiles, saying nothing, and he says it rather loudly.

"Do you need a new diaper?" Sirius asks Fred later, sniffing experimentally into the air.

"No," says Fred. 

"Are you certain?"

"No."

Remus swallows a laugh and raises his eyebrows, wondering what'll happen. The words "Sirius Black" and "changing diapers" in the same sentence is a concept as foreign as... as Sirius Black confiding things from his past to Remus Lupin, actually. And when Sirius does what needs to be done while singing and joking, making the little toddler hurl with laughter, yet another idea about this man falls to pieces in Remus' mind. 

"Sirius _can_ be quiet, you know," says James the next day, digging into the pocket of his duffel coat for the wallet. They've just finished lunch, it's been a few weeks since Remus started working. So far the job has been full of pleasant surprises, but the contented feeling of being useful, isn't one of them. He has no way of justifying getting paid at all. James and Sirius may have proven to be human after all, but there's no way that having Remus around has made any difference in how they're acting.

"I've yet to see him being silent for any length of time, " Remus says, hoping he's got enough to pay for his part of the meal. "He's even stopped being awkward with me, " which is mostly true. James rubs his eyes underneath his glasses, looks at Remus and opens his mouth. Closes it. Sighs, shakes his head and opens his mouth again.

"When Sirius finds a reason to say nothing, it's a silence that claims a lot of space. For better or worse."

Remus gets to learn the truth in James' words the following day. A handwritten letter arrives at the flat, neatly addressed in beautiful cursive to Mr Sirius Black and Mr James Potter. Remus watches with growing horror as James reads. 

"Those horrible little..." James says, letting the rest of the sentence hang in the air. His voice is tinged with suppressed anger when he reads a few passages out loud. 

"...spreading your filth...aren't fit to be around children...bringing shame to your family...won't stand for this...you'll have to pay for your transgressions..."

As far as insults go, they're not very well written. The threats sound rather inane to Remus, but James' and Sirius' expressions are hard to miss. Not very long ago, the feeling of being an outsider budging in on this scene might've been stronger than his worry, but apparently something has changed. The irrational desire to comfort makes no sense, but it's there nonetheless. A need to say that everything will be okay, with a certainty he doesn't feel.

James catches his eye. "This letter sounds very much like Sirius' family. We've suspected they might have something to do with this, but we haven't been certain." He doesn't say "Until now," but it's loud and clear nevertheless.

Remus quickly gets up from the sofa with no idea what to say. "Do you need a drink?" he stupidly ends up asking. It's not even three o'clock. 

"I'll have two, " says Sirius. It's the last thing he says that day.


	3. Scents

_"So, Mr Slughorn, welcome to our show, it's a pleasure to have you as a guest. And it wasn't easy to get a hold of you, as you've really been in the spotlight lately."_

_"Yes, yes, Palmer, I most certainly have. Our chemistry lab has finally made it, I can't begin to tell you how exited we are!"_

_"It's Potter, actually. You claim you've produced a perfume that smells different on different people. How exactly does it work?"_

_"The theory is rather simple, Portman. It's the execution that's been giving us headaches. But no more, dear fellows, no more. You simply add a dash of our new perfume, or cologne for the gentlemen, and the pheromones we all unconsciously release, get mixed with the perfume, creating your own, unique smell."_

_"But wouldn't that happen with all perfumes?"_

_"Not at all, Black, not all. What's so special about this product, is our secret ingredient. The touch of love, we like to call it. It makes this perfume a lot more susceptible to your body's signals than other, similar products, and actually adds the pheromones and signals of people smelling it as well. Therefore, it does not simply create a different scent based on who's wearing it, but based on who's smelling it. What each person smells, can tell you rather a lot about their hidden desires."_

_"So if I use your cologne, it will smell different to James than it will to Frank, even though both of them smell it on me?"_

_"Precisely, Black, precisely. By the way, does your family still own that huge advertising network for expensive, upper class products only that your grandfather founded?"_

_"Er. I wouldn't know."_

_"What a shame, what a shame. Anyway, Powell, the noble art of chemistry and I go way back, but it's been a long time since I've been this excited about a product we've developed."_

_"I don't blame you, Mr Slughorn, it's certainly an intriguing notion and a bit hard to believe. Almost like magic, I'd say."_

_"Yes, yes, Podmore, it almost is. Chemistry, scents, love. Magic is a fine way of describing it."_

*** ***

Remus is definitely going mad.

Not completely losing it like that Slughorn bloke on the radio, thank goodness (did he actually say he's got a perfume that blends in the pheromones of whoever's smelling it?), but Remus finds it's still pretty bad. 

Sirius keeps his mouth shut all day, making Remus miss his voice with a strength he suspects is most unhealthy. What's even worse, he's started to notice the way Sirius _smells_. Good heavens.

"Have you eaten anything?" Remus asks the following morning, sounding remarkably like his mother. 

Sirius half sits, half lies on the sofa, dressed in a white t-shirt with a faded design and some washed out jeans; his feet are bare. With James spending his Saturday with Lily, it's up to Remus to brighten the day. Standing here with his hands hanging heavily by his sides, looking at Sirius Black, wondering if it's Sirius who's changed this much since school or if it's his own perception of him that's very different now, hardly qualifies as being a supportive friend. 

When Sirius doesn't even blink in acknowledgement he's heard the question, Remus carefully tries again. 

"Nope." Sirius' voice is hoarse, like he hasn't spoken in some time. Which he probably hasn't. "I'd have to get up from the sofa. Walk all the way to the kitchen. Open the fridge, and quite possibly search through all sorts of leftovers to find something edible. Who's got the energy for all that?" 

As luck would have it, Remus does. Before long, toast and tea are ready; not the black tea he normally favours, but the sweetened oolong tea he's smelled many times from Sirius' mug. Better not dive too deeply into that thought. 

He sits down beside Sirius, bringing the food with him. A vague scent of _morning_ flows from the man at his side, the stale kind rather than the freshly showered kind, and there's no reason at all for Remus to like it. When Sirius leans closer, reaching for his tea, Remus closes his eyes without thinking. There's a faint scent of cigarettes, and it distract him from what he wants to ask long enough for Sirius to beat him to it. 

"How come you've got so much trouble finding a job?" 

This man, Remus realises, does not feel the need to wait for the right moment before asking. He quickly dries up a few drops that ended up on his chin when choking on his tea, and tries to hold in a cough. 

"Pardon?" 

"Frank told us you've been unemployed a lot. You're a clever guy, and fun to be around. I can't imagine why anyone would hesitate to hire you." 

Cheeks burning at the offhand compliment, Remus wishes he didn't have to answer. He rather likes this man that Sirius sees in him. 

"I get... seizures, of some sort. Blackouts. Sick days. It scares people. Frank did me a huge favour by giving me this job, even if he won't say so." 

Sirius chews his toast and swallows, sending Remus a narrow look. "People are easily scared, " he says before he sits back, putting his hands behind his head. "Doesn't seem to happen very often?" 

Remus shrugs, though he suspects that Sirius sees right through it. "It's worse now than it was back in school. I've got good weeks and bad weeks. It's not been too bad recently, but it's always there. And so is the social stigma of having to deal with an illness like this, an illness that takes over my body and makes me lose control. I'm not a danger to anyone, but changing people's minds take time." 

Sirius doesn't ask any more questions. He relaxes next to Remus, if anything shifting a little closer, and Remus could hug him for it. 

"You're nothing like I remember you, Sirius," he finds himself saying later. They're on their way to the little corner shop close by, getting Sirius' weekly supply of tea and grapes and biker magazines. He doesn't actually read them, he confides in Remus, but he rather likes the ritual of buying them, checking out the model on the cover and revel in the fact that his parents would scrunch up their noses in disgust at such blatant waste of money. 

"I'm not?" Sirius crosses the street without checking if it's clear; Remus really wants to hear what Sirius has to say and quickly follows. Even in the crowded city street, the scent of shampoo and leather from Sirius is strong enough to make Remus inhale greedily. 

"I used to talk to Severus Snape after he'd had his run-ins with you and James." The words escape before Remus has thought them through, before the part of his mind that always worries about people disliking him kicks in. Maybe it's for the best. He's been getting on remarkably well with Sirius lately, is learning to like him (and perhaps then some, his mind unhelpfully supplies). Still, that doesn't make his memories of the past any less true. 

Sirius stops walking as abruptly as if he just hit an invisible wall. "Snape, " he says through his teeth, and starts walking again. Apparently he disapproves of old school rivals as a conversational topic while heading for the shop. Or it might be Snape specifically he disapproves of. 

No words leave Sirius' mouth. He scurries between the aisles, picks up a double Mars Bar and a six-pack, his original shopping list forgotten. Once they get outside, Sirius leans against the wall, paying no attention to the passersby as he puts his hand on Remus' arm, looks at it, then lets go. There's a shadow flitting across his face when he meets Remus' eyes, the same lost expression he had the day they met in Frank's office. He looks so very young. 

"Is what happened with Snape the reason you were so cold to me?" 

"Well." Sirius' eyes are wide, his mouth gives a slight twitch. A vague scent of motor oil reaches Remus' nose, and he really wishes to see Sirius smiling again. So he doesn't say what he would've told him only a few short weeks ago, he bites down the colourful variety of allegations he's kept inside for years. And he finds it remarkably easy to do so. 

"I suppose it mostly was, " he says instead. "I never understood why two popular, outgoing boys felt the need to pick on someone who couldn't compete with that. Who probably didn't want to. And I still don't get it." 

Sirius starts walking back home, slowly, biting his lips in an obvious effort to find the right words. "James and Snape..." He shakes his head, tries again. "James and I, and Snape... It was some sort of instant dislike I can't quite explain. It was just there. We were idiots, of course we were. Though it wasn't like Snape was the innocent victim here, it went both ways. But yeah... Mostly it was us. I'm not proud of it." 

He stops again to meet Remus' eyes. "We've grown out of it, Remus. Please don't judge the man I am now because of the mistakes I made as a boy." 

That, Remus admits, makes sense. He says as much out loud, registering the warmth creeping through him at the sight of Sirius exhaling, straightening, smiling. "Good, " says Sirius, bouncing ahead. 

And that's pretty much it. They talked about it, now they're moving on. Isn't that something? 

If they'd done this sooner, Remus might've been dragged into all consuming Sirius-sniffing right back from the day they met again. As it is, the fascination he had with scents connected to Sirius prior to their little heart-to-heart, now grows into something more. Something that makes him stop and inhale when he walks past the local bakery, instantly brought back to the sinful way Sirius devours his croissants at breakfast. It makes him lift the odd newspaper to his nose, letting the scent of ink evoke an image of how Sirius reads _his_ (Sirius swears by _The Guardian_ , for reasons known only to himself, flips through it, catching only the headlines from the looks of it, yet picking up enough to have plenty of input in any discussion of current affairs). 

Remus even starts wondering what the cologne of that Slughorn guy would've smelled like on Sirius, if it would mean something different to him than to James. And if he put it on himself, what would it smell like to Sirius? 

Because something is up with Sirius as well. Something that has nothing to do with planning the radio show, going to wine-bars or brooding over which family members hate him the most. 

Remus isn't used to having beautiful men flirting with him. Or beautiful women. Or anyone flirting with him at all, actually. Except women over eighty, they love him. Beyond that, it's been pretty scarce lately. 

Which is why he doesn't notice it at first. The lingering looks Sirius sends him. The way he lets his finger glide lightly over Remus' when he passes him the coffee. How he sometimes stops talking in the middle of a sentence when Remus drags his hand through his hair or puts a Tic Tac into his mouth. 

"You do realise you've caught the attention of the unconquerable Sirius Black?" Lily and Alice don't tend to beat around the bush, and when they're together, having a glass of wine and giving Sirius some rather sharp competition on being the chattiest person in the room, they're a force to be reckoned with. 

"Hmm?" says Remus. 

"Lily is right," says Alice. "He's always around, trying to make you laugh. Looking at you. By the way, Remus, have you done something with your hair?" 

"I've never seen him like this before," says Lily. "You wouldn't think so, but he's actually a bit shy. Yes, Remus, something is different about you now. Is that jumper new?" 

"He hides it well," says Alice, "but he really is. He's terribly outgoing as well, but I suppose you can be both. Ooh, Remus, have you had a facial? You certainly look like you're glowing. I love men secure enough of their own masculinity to do stuff like that. Yet another reason you'd get along with Sirius just swimmingly." 

"He likes you," says Lily. "He likes you a lot. So the question is: how do you feel about him? Actually, Remus, I think it's your scent that's different. Have you been using a new shampoo?" 

"Don't encourage him if you don't mean it, " says Alice. "He says 'I love you' to everyone he likes, but he's not one to fall in love easily. I think Lily's right, Remus, is it your aftershave?" 

"He deserves to find someone," says Lily, "and so do you. Okay, Remus, I think I know what it is now! You've got a new belt on, there's nothing quite like the scent of leather. Mmm, nice!" 

"Doesn't seem like you're completely indifferent to his charms, " says Alice. "Looking at you now, Remus, I'd say all the suggestions we made are true. Someone is making an effort, and I quite like the result!" 

Hardly any of the his new friends' suggestions are true, but they seem to be right about one thing. Remus sees it now, he sees it clearly. Sirius likes him. Sirius _likes_ him. _Him_ , Remus Lupin. 

Something resembling a strange dance is taking place between them in the days to follow, an agonizingly slow dance where they keep circling each other, eyeing each other, staying close to each other. They're like two boxers in the ring, waiting to see who'll make the first move. 

It's Sirius who cracks first. 

Remus is about to push the door bell to Sirius' and James' flat when he notices movement in the shadows. He's never thought of himself as the particularly suspicious type. But he's promised to keep an eye on things, and he dutifully steps onto the lawn, trying to distinguish anything in the semi-darkness. He's approaching the glow from the light bulb over the next entrance, only to find Sirius leaning against the wall, trampling on what might be the remains of a cigarette. 

"Sirius?" Remus steps even closer, close enough to feel Sirius' breath against his face. "What are you doing here?" 

Sirius exhales, there's no scent of cigarettes from him after all, only freshness and citrus and salt. He tucks some strands of black hair behind his ear. Remus follows the movement with his eyes without meaning to. 

"Thinking," says Sirius. His pupils are enormous in the darkness, like vast oceans. Remus can only imagine that his own are the same. 

"About what?" Remus' voice is hoarse and shaky, his hands are cold, but he really can't find it in himself to care. 

"About someone I know." Sirius doesn't even blink, he leans a fraction closer. "Someone I like." 

"That's nice." And here he was, thinking he was a tolerably smart guy, used to having a clever reply up his sleeve. Apparently not when he's one small step away from Sirius, beautiful Sirius, in his dark jeans and his t-shirt one size too small, and it's really bloody cold out here. 

"I have a feeling he likes me back." There are goose bumps on Sirius' skin, the fine hairs rise from his forearms. Remus can feel it more than see it. 

"He might." A raindrop falls on Remus' nose, but he doesn't notice until the drop gets company. "It's starting to rain," he says, quite redundantly. "We're getting cold." 

"Does it matter?" Sirius is inches away from him, his hair getting steadily wetter, his t-shirt soon wet enough to become transparent, or so Remus imagines. 

"Does it?" Sirius asks again, his warm breath mixing with cold rain and the scent of wet leaves on the ground. 

"No." Sirius pulls him in before Remus has finished saying the word. Strong arms close around his back, and Sirius' lips find his; it's rushed, open-mouthed, erratic. For a few seconds, their lips move in a way that mirrors the chaos going on inside. And then, as if Sirius is reassured Remus won't run away, he slows down; his lips are warm and pliant, searching. It's raining for real now, they're both shivering, and it's the best experience Remus has ever had. 

Later, they try kissing again inside, with dry clothes, with no clothes, checking if it's just as good without almost freezing to death. Luckily, it turns out that it is. 

"I often lie here, listening to the radio." Sirius snuggles into Remus, putting his foot betwen Remus' legs. "I listen to sad music, and I think about you. Wonder where you are, if I'll ever see you again. Or at least I used to. Now you're here." 

Yes, now Remus is here. With Sirius. Imagine that. He smiles and relishes the insistent sparks of happiness spreading through his body. 

The first morning when they wake up together, warm and sated and heavy from sleep, Remus adjusts the covers around them, pulling Sirius even closer, pretending to have a cave of their own where the rest of the world can't reach them. 

Which is why he almost misses the anxious look on James' face as he puts today's mail away. 


	4. Touching

_"As some of you might be aware, Sirius and I like to take part in sports and various challenges. This winter, we'll join in the radio station's annual charity treasure hunt, and I have a feeling it's going to be a whole lot of fun."_

_"I'm really looking forward to it. James and I are going to be the best team ever. We'll be like Bonnie and Clyde!"_

_"Except I doubt the network will let us rob banks, Sirius."_

_"Fair enough, we'll be like Harry and Sally, then!"_

_"Except there's absolutely no chance we'll end up together."_

_"We'll be like Thelma and Louise!"_

_"Except we won't die. I hope."_

_"What do you mean, Thelma and Louise died?"_

_"Have you actually seen the film, Sirius?"_

_"They don't die, James. They fly away to freedom!"_

_"Okay, if that helps you sleep at night. Anyway, it's going to be a lot of fun, and I do think it's very healthy as well to take part in events like these. But let's ask today's guest, doctor Poppy Pomfrey, what do you consider to be the most important elements in our lives to remain content?"_

_"Oh, that's an easy question, Mr Potter. Human contact. Without a doubt."_

_"Really? Not eating healthy? Exercising? Getting enough sleep?"_

_"All of those things are important, Mr Black. Very important. But without human contact, we lose something essential. And by human contact I do mean having a good time with other people as well as physical touch. It doesn't at all have to be the sexual touch, although that may be a part of it. I speak in more general terms. Touching a person you care about, and being touched, holding them. A good hug. Being held by someone who makes you feel safe is the most reassuring thing in the world when we're children, and I don't believe we change all that much when it comes to this."_

_"That makes a lot of sense, and it's an important reminder to all the ladies, gents and trans persons listening to us. You've heard it from the brilliant doctor and frequent guest at any self-respecting TV show dealing with health issues, Poppy Pomfrey, that touching each other is a good thing."_

_"I don't encourage frivolity of any kind, Mr Black. But yes, human touch is a good thing, as long as it is mutually voluntary, of course. Being close to someone you care about can put the most restless soul at ease."_

*** ***

Sirius is getting undressed. 

Remus sits in an armchair, watching. His corner is dimly lit, though he suspects Sirius can see his half open mouth, his blushed cheeks, his hungry eyes.

Sirius unbuttons his shirt. Taking his time. It's a white shirt, long and lush, with silver cufflinks. He pulls it down his shoulders, letting it fall down onto the floor, revealing flawless skin. 

Deft fingers move towards his leather pants; he opens it at the front, pulling it down below his hips. He elegantly kicks off his shoes, before letting the leather pants fall all the way down. He's standing naked in front of Remus. 

"Will you touch me, Remus?" 

Remus gets up from his chair and walks closer. He lifts his hand and lets it glide through Sirius' hair, revelling in the contrast between black curls and pale hand, he touches every surface of skin he can reach. Narrow hips and lean thighs flow beneath his fingers, or maybe it's his fingers that move across them, he really can't tell at this point. 

He's about to lean in, to push his lips softly against the spot where neck meets shoulder, when something lying on the floor captures his attention. 

"Would you wear these for me?" He smiles, nearly laughs, a happy laugh full of trust and joy and amazement; _this is happening_.

Sirius smiles back, he's looking rather predatory, which really is a great look on him. "Of course." He lifts his red, high-heeled shoes from the floor, steps into them with exaggerated grace, looking utterly ridiculous and ridiculously hot.

"Why do you like wearing them?" Remus had asked once. Sirius had shrugged, smiled and simply answered "I just do. Every now and then. I'm through with doing things I don't want to just to please other people, and I'm through with _not_ doing what I'd like to just because I'm afraid of what others might think." 

Beautiful, brave, fun Sirius. Remus can't quite believe how lucky he is, can't imagine what he's done to have captured this man's attention. He quickly takes off his own clothes, shyness forgotten, and they leap onto Sirius' bed.

Hours later, Remus hurries back into the bedroom. He's just been to the kitchen, getting them something to drink, but he ends up standing in front of the bed, watching Sirius stroke the sheets in obvious invitation. 

Sirius is so warm. He's got the most delicious feet Remus has ever seen, and he has this strange way of making any problem seem small, irrelevant. 

"Come back here." Sirius' voice is low and inviting. "I want to spend the entire weekend in here with you."

"Won't James start to wonder?"

"Hah, he probably won't even notice. He's lying low with Lily. I much prefer to lie low with Lupin."

His face is too cheerful for Remus to remain silent. What starts as a smile, quickly leads them into fits of laughter. Sirius clasps his hands together, he sits up to breathe and pulls the covers to his chin, making Remus laugh until he has to lean against the chair to keep himself standing. They look at each other, Remus has no idea what's so funny, and it doesn't matter one bit. It's getting unbearable, tears leak out from their eyes, and Sirius buries his head in the covers only to come up again just as quickly. Remus finally falls down onto the floor, body shaking in unstoppable laughter.

"Sirius Black!" Remus wipes his eyes and sits up, still sensing something bubbling inside. "You'll be the ruin of me."

"Quite the opposite, Remus Lupin. Now will you please get back into bed with me?"

There's a sentence Remus doesn't hear every day, and he hauls himself to his feet. Sirius pulls away the covers completely, letting his hand glide across his stomach, making no effort to hide the effect Remus has on him. Grey eyes run across Remus' body, and the remains of their laughter kick in again as Sirius not so subtly fixates on a point below his navel. 

"Hey there," says Sirius, blinking at him, and Remus laughs. Sirius isn't the only one enjoying their joyful exchange. 

"You're wonderful." Something soft and warm spreads through him, something that makes Remus want to stay here forever.

Naked, and with the utmost dignity, he crawls into bed.


	5. Tastes

_"We're so excited about our guest today! We're honoured to introduce Rolanda Hooch, well known and highly respected pioneer for women's participation in organized sports. You've faced a lot of prejudices and hardship during these years, Rolanda, especially back when you started. How do you find the motivation to keep going?"_

_"A lot of people have asked me that question, and many people seem to think that it's the taste of victory on the field that is my main incentive. Of course, hearing the name "Rolanda Hooch", or in your case "Sirius Black", being announced as the winner, is fantastic. Addictive, even. But more important is the sweet taste of accomplishment. Of making a difference."_

_"And you've certainly made a difference. When you think back to the way it used to be, when women weren't allowed to compete in a lot of sports because grumpy, old men claimed it wasn't healthy for them, how do you feel about the situation today?"_

_"A great many things are so much better now, James, no doubt about that. But we've not reached the finishing line yet. Let me give you an example. It's not at all long ago that women weren't allowed to have their own ski jumping competition in the Olympics, and the excuse used by men this time was that it could hurt women's ability to procreate. I kid you not! I have to ask if being a man, with your reproductive organs firmly placed outside your body, wouldn't put that particular ability at a much greater risk."_

_"You would think so, yeah. I'm always surprised by the length some people will go to in order to control others. Good thing we have people like you to expose all that crap."_

_"Well, thankfully it seems to me that you two, young gentlemen are also doing a fine job exposing crap, as you so delicately put it, Sirius. I'm certain you get the taste of it every now and then; the taste of winning one small battle at the time."_

_"And a sweet taste it is! Tell me, though, what kind of experiences in life have the most bitter taste to you?"_

_"Oh, that's a harder question. I suppose the worst isn't to realise that a project or something I've been working hard for won't succeed, not if there are valid reasons for failure. Far worse is it when you think you've accomplished something, when you think you have what you want within your grasp, only to see it snatched away."_

_"How do you cope when that happens, Rolanda?"_

_"It depends, and my way of dealing with it may not be yours. If it's something really important to you, Sirius, then you fight. Fight for what you want."_

*** ***

Alice is quiet, looking serene and focused, bending over her leather briefcase, searching for something. 

"She's in work mode." Frank nods in her direction, waving Remus inside. The office seems much smaller than the first time he came here, it's hotter, stiffer, like the air moments before thunder takes over the sky. He turns around to find them all entering the room. James, Lily and Sirius. Frank pours them coffee, and Remus wishes Alice would hurry whatever this is along. 

"I'm glad you're here." Alice in work mode is as effective and to-the-point as Alice in wine-bar mode is chatty and full of laughter. "New information has arrived concerning the threats against James and Sirius. Or rather, I've been able to go through everything I found to be related to the case, and some interesting patterns have emerged."

She opens her laptop and finds her presentation, goodness, she really knows this stuff. "It's fortunate for you guys that you have me around. I'm afraid the police force still won't or can't prioritize this. I've tried building something of a profile of whoever's behind this, I'll get to that later. For now, I'll point you to some interesting facts that I didn't notice at first. These threats have arrived in many forms, from hand-written letters to messages on Twitter, and there has been no real effort made to systemize them.

"But I've taken the time to do just that now, and the findings are interesting. It looks like something happened a few weeks back, because the number of threats rapidly increased. A lot. It may be a long shot, but can either of you recall anything out of the ordinary taking place around that time? Something you said on the air, perhaps, that might've provoked this increase?"

The thought of someone out there threatening Sirius and James, had started out as general indignation on their behalf when he first heard about it. As Remus has got to know them better, though, he's grown increasingly worried and would like nothing better than finding the guilty ones. But he can't think of any useful information to contribute with. He never listened to the radio show before he started working here, and he looks around, waiting to see if anyone has some ideas. 

But the room is silent. Tense.

Remus can sense the exact moment when the thought creeps into Sirius' mind. He sees the stiff posture, hears the sharp intake of breath, and he knows. He knows that in this moment, Sirius Black is doubting him. In this moment, Sirius Black wonders if maybe, just maybe, Remus Lupin is able to betray him.

He doesn't need to hear the "it's about that time that Remus started working here" or the "how good a friend was he with Snape, really?" or the "he acted all jealous of us even back in school". He knows. 

Sirius slowly turns towards Remus, dragging his hand through his hair, but he stops halfway, focusing on James instead. 

"A few weeks ago?" James leans forward, squinting to get a better look at Alice's numbers. "About the time that Remus started here?" There's no suspicion in James' voice, he's simply asking to clarify, or so it appears. Still, the thought is out there, it's only a matter of time before someone says it out loud, and Remus can't bear it.

Sirius starts talking, shakily wondering aloud, still not meeting Remus' eyes.

"Remus... Does Remus have anything to do with..."

But Remus doesn't want to hear any more than he has to. A sickening wave of hurt and confusion washes over him, doing its best to drown the island of joy he'd let himself believe he could have. He gets up and hastily leaves the room, ignoring the burning looks in his back.

Oh yes, Sirius will probably see reason soon enough, James will too if he's having the same thoughts. They'll realise how stupid it is, that he has no reason to do it, they'll know that he's not that kind of person. 

But it won't undo the fact that in this moment, Sirius asks himself if Remus could be capable of such a thing. Sirius wonders if Remus is a man to be holding grudges, nursing them, letting them grow big and heavy and dark in his mind. Sirius considers the idea that maybe, just maybe, Remus is hateful enough to do this, to keep plotting to get close to Sirius, and just maybe, Remus is able to live with all the secrecy. 

It can't be undone, and the thought makes Remus want to throw something really heavy and really valuable against the wall.

Instead, he goes home. He lies down on his bed without bothering to get undressed. He pulls up the covers and puts on the radio, tuning in until he finds appropriately sad music to accompany his state of mind. 

Two days later; two days where Remus has called in sick for no legitimate reason and kept his mobile off, ignoring the loud and repeated pounding on his front door, someone calls in a bomb threat to the radio station. Finally able to get her superiors' attention, Alice shows them the results of her work. She shows them every letter and every message left online, she tells them about her profile and her suspicions. 

The police turn out to be remarkably efficient when prodded, and it comes as no surprise to anyone when Sirius' cousin Bellatrix and her husband get arrested.

And Remus? Remus stays cooped up inside his flat, trying not think too much, trying not to notice how lost he feels. He only steps outside for a much needed visit to the grocery store when his fridge is completely empty.

Checking his mailbox on the way back in, he finds two letters. Warily, he tries to push his heart back down to where it belongs, he puts the letters in his pocket with cold fingers and walks up the remaining stairs. 

Only when he sits by the kitchen table, with a freshly brewed cup of tea in his hand, does he look at the letters.

The first one is a short note from Lily. She tells him about the arrests, but thankfully, she doesn't urge him to talk to Sirius.

The second one is a big, white letter that looks as if someone has been clutching it with sweaty palms before posting it. The words _Please read this!_ are scrawled across the envelope in huge, shaky writing. He stares at it for several, long minutes before he gets up, throwing it into the bin without opening it. The taste of victory feels awfully far away.


	6. Try

_"Today's show will be a little different from what it usually is. We have no guests with us, and we have some rather serious issues we need to address. As I'm sure many of you are aware, Sirius and I have been receiving threats these last couple of months. There have been letters, phone calls, messages on social media, with vivid descriptions of where they would like us to stick our opinions and what would happen to us if we didn't stop broadcasting them."_

_"Vivid is indeed the correct word, James. Threats from narrow minded, hateful people who for some reason feel they have the right to dictate how others should live their lives and who they get to love. A few days ago, the police arrested two persons and have charged them with making these threats and planning an attack. We hope this will be the end of this particular chapter. But there are others out there. The fight isn't over."_

_"Speak up when you hear homophobic comments. Say something if you overhear badmouthing because of people's race, gender or religion. Disguising bigotry as a joke doesn't make it any less dangerous. If you meet someone who's made choices you don't approve of or don't understand, revel in the fact that we're all different and that they are able to be who they really are. Because being honest about who you are, is such an important thing, and we should all be lucky enough to experience it.  
Another important thing is admitting when you've been wrong about something. Which brings us over to an apology. Sirius?"_

_"Yes, thank you, James. A-hem. Dear listeners, my name is Sirius Black, and I've made a mistake. And I mean that, a terrible, idiotic mistake I desperately wish I could take back. But I can't. I can, however, say how desperately sorry I am. So this goes out to a certain someone, and I can only hope you're listening. You know who you are, and the fact alone that James hasn't budged in with some hilarious comment about how often I make mistakes and that this is just one of many, should tell you how heartfelt this is."_

_"Even I possess some minimum of decorum, Sirius."_

_"We can dissect that particular statement some other time, James. Right now there are a few words I need to say. Because I've hurt someone I care about. Someone I'm falling in love with. I let suspicion and fear cloud my judgement for a moment, but please believe me when I say that it was only a brief moment of madness."_

_"That's true. Sirius started moaning and complaining about how stupid he was no more than ten minutes after this person left the room."_

_"So here it is, to my special someone. I didn't really believe you could've done such a thing. My mind has a tendency to go places I don't want it to. I am so very sorry.  
And now I'm going to sing."_

_"I'm afraid so, people, he really is. And trust me on this one - Sirius can't sing. At all."_

_"Could we have some background music, please. Thank you. A-hem._  
\- Please, please forgive me! I know I made a mess, please forgive me!  
\- I sometimes get stupid ideas in my mind, but you're so clever and fun and kind.  
\- I'll do anything to make it up to you - make you tea or sing songs or lie low with you – " 

_"As you all undoubtedly can tell by now, Sirius can't sing even a little bit, and he has no talent whatsoever when it comes to composing lyrics."_

_"But I can apologize. Please, my love. Let us try again."_

*** ***

Remus lies in his bed, not bothering to get up even though it's almost noon. He's hungry, but the hunger hasn't yet grown strong enough to make him abandon lying under the covers, having the same, dark thoughts flying through his head again and again. So instead of getting up, he listens to the radio. 

He's not certain if it's a coincidence or if it's his subconsciousness playing a trick on him. Either way, he soon finds himself listening to James' and Sirius' show. He listens to Sirius Black making a spectacle of himself to goodness knows how many people.

He listens to Sirius apologizing on the air, singing a surprisingly terrible song in a surprisingly terrible singing voice. Because he's sorry. Because he misses Remus. Because he loves him. Sirius had used that word. "My love," he'd said, and something soft is stirring inside of Remus, making his stomach flip. 

Can he forgive Sirius? Remus believes that he can. Goodness knows he's made plenty of mistakes himself, and some of them are more similar to Sirius' mistake than he likes to acknowledge - making assumptions about people without knowing the whole story. It's an uncomfortably precise description of how he had Sirius pegged as selfish and arrogant before he'd really got to know him.

Can he move past this and look ahead, look to a future for the two of them? Can he trust Sirius?

Remus hasn't found the answer to that question yet. Sirius doubting him, hurt. It hurt a lot. And yet... This won't be the last time Sirius sticks his foot in his mouth, of that Remus has little doubt. But it also won't be the last time he makes grand gestures, willing to do whatever it takes to show Remus how much he cares. 

Quickly, with more energy than he's felt for days, he gets up, heads for the shower and gets dressed. In a haze he jumps onto the bus taking him to Sirius' place, he should be home by now, and before he's had the time to talk himself out of it, he pushes the door bell.

He has no idea what to say. When someone picks up the door phone inside, his heart rate speeds up and his mouth goes dry. Then he hears Sirius' voice.

"Hello?"

"Er, hello. It's Remus."

"...oh. Are you here for me?"

And yes, Remus supposes that he is. "Mmm. Will you let me in?"

He pushes the door open and walks inside, struck by how much like home this feels to him. It's not the building or the flat; it's the man. Remus would be a fool to let him go.

Sirius is waiting in the doorway, he looks tired and anxious. "I'm so sorry, Remus."

"I know. We'll work it out, starting right now." He closes the door behind them, pulling a sobbing Sirius into a tight embrace. "We'll work it out," he says again. "Shh. We'll work it out."

And somehow, with Sirius' hear tickling his nose and the already familiar warmth of Sirius' arms around him, he believes that they will.

**Author's Note:**

> I can also be found on [LiveJournal](http://huldrejenta.livejournal.com/) and [Tumblr](http://huldrejenta.tumblr.com/) :)


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